


War In Heaven

by shecomesincolor_999



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Good versus Evil, Masturbation, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23089324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shecomesincolor_999/pseuds/shecomesincolor_999
Summary: Satan’s reign in Hell was parallel to that of God’s in Heaven, both having legions of believers upon the Earth. And when Satan sends his son Michael Langdon to earth, God sends his daughter. Their parallel is the ultimate war of good versus evil.
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is a long backstory that sets up the rest of the story. Please let me know what you think and what you hope to see happen!

**Prologue**

The book of Revelation tells of the war in Heaven between Michael the Archangel and the dragon - otherwise known as Satan - with their respective armies of angels. As we know, Satan was cast out of Heaven and came to rule his own creation - Hell. Hell was Satan’s perfect palace of fire and torment populated with his army of fellow fallen angels and the souls of the damned. 

Satan’s reign in Hell was parallel to that of God’s in Heaven, both having legions of believers upon the Earth. Believers of their power, the need to worship them and follow their teachings in wait of a second coming and to be worthy of eternal life with them. It wasn’t that long ago when God’s worshipers outnumbered the atheists, agnostics and Satanists and it seemed that nothing would be any different. But in our modern times, society found itself making large shifts and a continuing decline in Christ’s followers. As war, celebrity, greed and narcissism ruled so did Satan. And with this opportunity Satan brought forth his son as Michael Langdon, created of pure evil directly over the mouth of Hell, as the foretold second coming. At this cosmic shift, God responded in equal and opposite action, determined to combat Satan’s efforts.

In two different wombs, two different homes and two different bodies the ancient prophecies were fulfilled.

The battle between good and evil wages on.

...

In Los Angeles, as Constance raised a young Michael while doing her best to overlook his predilection for evil, a cherubic girl was being raised in a Northern California town by two loving parents.

She had been adopted by a husband and wife unable to bear their own children and raised as their own, loved and cared for as the most precious being. They lived happily on their winery estate in a large Craftsman style home, wealthy but not at all ostentatious in preference for a simple comfortable life.

The Catholic adoption agency in San Francisco that placed her with her parents in the first few days of her life did not know of her exact origin. Baby girl was anonymously left at the steps of St. Mary’s Cathedral in the wee hours before dawn, laying in an open shallow cardboard box wrapped in a tattered bath towel, mere hours old. A priest, opening the doors at sunrise to welcome those for morning confession, found the babe in the box. A scrawled note simply said “Mother died in childbirth at home;” no name, no other clues. Gasping at the discovery, the priest reached down to take her from the rude bed, cradling her tiny body in his arms. Sensing comfort and warmth the baby rooted, towel shifting to reveal wisps of golden hair on her head, brilliant pale blue eyes blinking open.

As the girl grew she was the perfect child, even through the usually trying toddler years. She dutifully attended mass at a nearby parish every Sunday with her parents, they raised her diligently in faith and sent her to the parish school. She grew up delighting in singing hymns just as much as she did cartoon theme songs, kneeling beside her bed each night and saying her prayers was what brought her comfort and doing good deeds for others was what made her truly happy. She spent summer days in the vineyards chasing butterflies, having picnic dinners on the front lawn of the house with her parents and the family dog, a golden retriever named Sunny, was always at her side. It was idyllic in every sense of the world, happiness filled her entire life never knowing any sadness or hurt.

It was on a summer day shortly before the girl’s 6th birthday when things changed.

  
  


**Perfect Angel**

The girl’s parents had arranged for a babysitter, a teenage girl for church, to watch their cherub while they went out for the evening. The sun was still shining when they left their rural home to drive into town. Little did anyone know that the girl sitting on the porch excitedly waving goodbye would soon perform a miracle.

Up until now, there had been small signs. Nothing out of the ordinary enough to cause pause, but when looking back on it was clear they were the beginning of her powers. The girl had never once been sick, come to think of it, since she had entered their home, the parents hadn’t had one cold or even a mild headache. Both of their parents, her grandparents, were in aging without any health issues. And while the winery had been overall prosperous, since she came onto the land, the crop yields were record-setting each year, profits had never been better and the wine produced last year had won an international award. Because they were the type of people that they were, the family thanked God for these blessings but stayed out of any limelight and anonymously donated the wealth to those in need. Believing that as God had answered their prayers for a child, they wanted to pass on what they could to help others. There was also the fact that everywhere they went, people would fall silent and turn their attention to the girl, pure admiration covered their faces. “She’s beautiful!” They would exclaim. The praise always led the parents to reply how blessed they were with a healthy child and made the girl blush, never feeling comfortable with the admiration.

The parents had spent evening until night in town, the sky dark as the father drove home in the family truck. Only just after leaving town the weather turned and the sky opened up to a pop-up thunderstorm with driving rain falling in sheets. The winding two-lane road to their estate was a route he knew as second nature, but the rain intensified to a point where he didn’t feel comfortable with the lessening visibility in the dark. Knowing caution was needed as the fog lights he turned on illuminated a vehicle ahead that was driving at a much slower pace, he tapped the brakes. The older farm truck held sentimental value to the father and he had just taken it to a friend’s auto shop for brake work. Unbeknownst to anyone, something with the brakes faulty and as he pressed his foot further, the car barely reacted. Bewildered and yelling something was wrong as he stomped the brake to no avail, to avoid the other vehicle, he jerked the wheel, the truck sliding off the wet road down a ravine.

…

“God bless Mommy and Daddy. Lord, please watch over them and bring them home safely to me. Please bring more sunshine for the grapes to grow. Amen.” The girl’s childish prayer before bed was simple enough, but the power within her was growing. Just as the sun set she climbed into bed and slept peacefully, a small night light on in the corner of the room and Sunny laying at the foot of the bed.

Hours later she was startled awake, screaming in terror after experiencing her first nightmare - a horrible vision of death claiming the souls of her parents - at the exact same time the accident happened. 

When news came of the accident, family and friends rushed to the house to be with the girl. They were delicate in how they explained the accident, finding that ‘Mommy and Daddy have some bad boo-boos’ was best. Though no one knew how perceptive she was, what had happened during that nightmare was beyond anyone’s understanding, that she knew the severity of the tragedy. Begging and pleading, crying and inconsolable for hours, those caring for her finally gave in and agreed to take her to see the parents in the hospital.

Prognosis was grim. The parents had entered the emergency room after being airlifted in a medical helicopter to the nearest hospital with a trauma center, in San Francisco. The husband had coded once during the trip, barely clinging to life when he arrived. The wife wasn’t much better off; her airbag had failed, the tree branches shattered the windshield and windows as the car fell, without the protection of airbags, she had severe trauma to her skull and deep cuts across her face. Emergency surgery for internal bleeding for the father and one to take pressure off the mother’s brain happened quickly. It was unlikely he’d survive at all or that she would be anything by a human vegetable. 

  
  
  
  


The parents were both in the intensive care unit when the girl arrived. The mother’s parents had taken her to the hospital and didn’t question her request to visit their rooms alone, granting her this small thing in the grand horrible scheme they were faced with. In each of their rooms, the girl climbed up into the hospital bed, clutching a hand as she closed her eyes. Soft tears fell down her face, trembling sniffles as she spoke out loud her prayer asking God for his healing. The innocent ask was like every other prayer she had spoken before, plain and heartfelt. She had done this first in the father’s room and then moved to her mother’s room. With the grandparents standing outside the room, looking on with tears in their eyes, both saddened at the situation yet so proud of the strong faith the girl was displaying. The beeping and whirring of all of the medical machines sounded as her sniffled prayers continued. She was asking God for the same healing, but something was different. The girl’s childlike voice grew louder in volume, deepened into that of a grown woman’s and the floor started to shake. The words falling from her tiny mouth were no longer English, but the ancient Latin Father O’Hara spoke during the special Latin mass the church held each year. She was nearly 6, there’s no way she knew any of the Latin prayers by heart, let alone fluently speak this dead language. They were in pure shock at what they were hearing. 

And then, as she chanted in Latin, the shaking of the floor grew stronger and a sliver of light emanated from her small body. The light grew in intensity, a pure white so bright that the entire room filled with it - blinding grandma and grandpa. They shielded their eyes, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor. And just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. The entire episode lasted less than a minute.

“God is so good!” The girl’s voice was it’s normal child tone, bright and cheery as ever as she appeared before her grandparents while they found footing and stood up from the floor. They sputtered to speak, in complete disbelief of what they had just witnessed. At that same moment, beeps and buzzing came alarmingly loud from both of the parents’ rooms, the attending doctors and nurses sprinting past them to see what was happening. 

“I… I can’t… explain…” One of the doctors shouted above the loud noises and voices in the rooms. He was breathless, as if having just run a marathon and was in shock. “They’re… they...”

“They’re not hurt any more.” The girl looked up at the grandparents, finishing the doctor’s sentence to explain what was happening.

Less than 24 hours later, both parents were completely healed of their injuries save for some minor cuts and bruises, back to 100% health and back home with their daughter. She had completed her first miracles.

The story made news around the world - first in supermarket tabloids and fanatical religious sites. Then it went further, even though most people chalked it up to fake news used to push a religious agenda. (Humans, so jaded). 

But miles away in New Orleans, Cordelia Goode was sitting at her desk, dialing a phone number in Northern California. 


	2. Pleased To Meet You, Hope You Guess My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly is the miracle girl child? In the continuation it’s revealed how she comes to Miss Robichaux’s, we meet Michael and find out some of his backstory and our heroine’s name is revealed. (3/13/20 Made a few edits)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally intended to make the focus Michael/reader after introducing the story. However, as I’ve continued writing it just became best for the focus to be Michael/original female character.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments on what you’d like to see or enjoy so far. I feel very rusty as I haven’t written in a long while. Satan curse Cody Fern’s portrayal of Michael Langdon for being the ultimate muse!

Upon the conclusion of their phone conversation, the parents looked at each other as they were still processing what had just been discussed. The past few weeks after their car accident had been a blur, barely believable. Not only had they miraculously survived and recovered from their extensive injuries, but the miracle was performed by their now 6 year old daughter.

They believed in miracles, their deep faith in their Catholic religion taught them they were possible. Saints existed among the earth performing miracles for all of existence, they were just baffled that their little girl could be an instrument of God to that extent. As news of her act had spread, they secluded themselves on their estate, thankful for being able to easily keep the outside world from disturbing their family. Their daughter was a small child innocent to anything the world at large had to offer outside of the life they provided her at home, school and church. There would be no cameras, interviews or other intrusion to her life. The only other phone call they had entertained seriously was from the Vatican, inviting them to come hold a private audience with the Pope. And while they had initially turned down the offer, something they felt extremely guilty doing - they didn’t want any press coverage of the visit - they eventually gave in after much reassurance it would be a clandestine meeting.

They were packing to leave in a few days, busy and anxious when a witch called. It was a call they didn’t answer, their girl had actually been playing a matching game on the mother’s iPhone when the call came in. She was used to answering calls on occasion one came in while playing a game; it was always a family member or friend of the family she knew. So while no photo shown on the screen of the many contacts in her mother’s phone, she answered it without thought.

“Hiiiiii!” Her high cheery child voice practically sang her greeting. “Mommy’s looking for her power adapter and can’t find it.” Her attention quickly gone from the call, turning to find her mother. “Mommy! Phone!” And as the mother lent down to take it, the girl was pouting. “I didn’t get to finish my game, can I please when you’re done? I earned my screen time today.” Her bottom lip trembled just slightly, her ability to get her way was certain.

—-

The flight to Rome from San Francisco conveniently had a layover in New Orleans and out of curiosity the parents decided to make the accommodation to visit the school Ms. Goode had told them about over the phone. Cordelia knew that these very religious people would not even visit if she had revealed the full details of the school, witches and magic would’ve surely led to being hung up on. A bit of magic made sure they found no information about her or the school online or from anyone they knew ahead of their visit. She knew that them seeing things in person would be the sure way to persuade them to see the potential their daughter possessed and that the best place to be for her would be under her tutelage.

Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies was impressive enough, the parents actually listening to the entire pitch Cordelia gave. She had a way with speaking to them that was not only respectful of their religion, but was plain about the history of witches and their powers - revealing the ways in which good and evil, religion and magic had danced around each other since the beginning. Spending a full day talking, sitting in on instruction and talking with girls at the school, it seemed like a lovely place.

“Ms. Goode, this has been such an enlightening day and we appreciate your time and interest.” The mother spoke, the father cutting her off.

“However…”

——

However, despite their enlightening day at the Academy with it’s leader and learning so much, there was no way what their daughter had done for them was witchcraft. And she certainly was no witch, no. It was a pure miracle of God, they were sure. And so they left their detour and continued their travels.

For it being her first time on a plane, the girl did well traveling that was, until the day they were to meet the Pope. While at the Vatican waiting for their late morning meeting, she was in a cranky mood like she had never been before, overtired from jet lag and clearly in need of lunch and a good nap. Even as a special child, she was still just a child, even if this was completely out of her character. The audience with His Holiness was brief and a whirlwind, afterward the Pope’s officials had informed the family that they were reviewing their daughter’s acts as official miracles and that if confirmed, sainthood could then be explored. This was the parents’ version of winning the lottery and just furthered their belief that no magic was at play here but God’s divine plan.

Back in their hotel suite in Rome, the girl was finishing a cup of milk chocolate gelato – the thing she insisted on eating for lunch, the largest cup available that was so large she could hardly hold it in her hands. She only set down the cup because her stomach had started to hurt from the overwhelming amount of sweet. Her cranky mood had not died down even as her body was losing energy, rubbing her eyes and speaking with a sassy tone to her mother as she took a damp wash cloth to wipe the gelato off her small face. Whining, turning her head away and running to the bedroom, mother helped the girl out of the Mary Jane shoes and tights she was wearing along with what the girl called her ‘fancy dress.’

“Please be a good girl and cooperate… this isn’t like you, sweetheart.” The girl was laying on her back in the center of the bed, kicking her legs and thrashing around screaming “No!” Repeatedly at the top of her lungs, so overtired she was past any reason. Shocked at this tantrum, the first one she had ever had in her life, It took both parents to get her undressed, leaving her in her underwear and white cotton camisole to take a nap. It wasn’t easy to get her to sleep, she fought the nap but once she was down and sleeping gently, the parents shut the door to the bedroom and left her be while they sat in the living room area of the suite, enjoying a bottle of red wine while they unwound and discussed the events of the day. The girl didn’t just nap, but was sleeping soundly when the parents were going to retire to the bedroom themselves. Not wanting to wake her and risk any issues, they made themselves comfortable on the sleeper sofa in the living room and ended their day.

The next morning, the mother woke up out of her deep sleep, looking down at the watch on her wrist to see that she had been sleeping for over 9 hours. She sat up quickly and surveyed the room to see it was as they left it last night and that the door to the bedroom was still closed.

“Sweetheart?” She called out, sure that her daughter couldn’t have slept 15 hours straight.

It was silent save for her husband’s light snoring, so she took to her feet and rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes, brain fully awake as she sensed something wasn’t right.

The mother quietly opened the bedroom door, looking at the queen size hotel bed where she had sung her overtired 6 year old daughter to sleep the afternoon before. A piercing scream escaped her lips as she gawked at the young woman in the bed. The father startled and ran in to see his wife on her knees in the center of the bed, a disheveled looking young woman in her arms where a child should’ve been.

“Mommy?” Her voice was not that of a child’s either, but there was still a childish tone to it as if an adult’s voice box was possessed by a child’s way of speaking. “Daddy?” The woman’s head turns, looking directly at the father.

Her eyes were the same blue as the little girl’s had been, same soft round face the same with rosy cheeks, button nose, a soft pink pout of lips and beautiful mane of golden blonde hair with natural soft curls that fell down to the middle of her back. Their girl had aged at least a decade overnight. She swung her long sculptural legs over the edge of the bed and for the first time her feet touched the floor. Like a newborn deer, she was wobbly on her legs as she stood, arms held out at her sides to balance. The parents couldn’t help but stare in shock as she moved slowly in this new body.

“I’m hungry, do we have Cheerios?” The grown girl yawned, stretching her arms over her head. The white cotton camisole clung to the very much adult curves of her body. She had been beautiful as a child, but in this new form she was unearthly.

—-

The Catholic Church had no answers for what had happened, they tried everything including an exorcism to no avail. The Pope himself examined the girl, a single world escaping his lips as he took a step back from her and held out the crucifix hanging from the chain around his neck. “Witch!”

Cordelia and her lead instructor Zoe Benson awaited the girl’s return to Robichaux’s to the girl, excited to welcome her where they believed she belonged. Ms. Goode was the first phone call the parents made as soon as they had left their most recent meeting with the Pope. They did not hesitate to board the next plane with their grown daughter directly to New Orleans. Despite the baffling change in her, their deep love for their daughter was something that no magic could change. They had prayed so hard for guidance and an answer, but without any they hoped leaving their precious girl in the care of perfect strangers was for the best. They couldn’t fully accept that she was a witch, still confounding religion and what was in front of them, but trusted that this was for the best - that she was clearly a special being that needed the assistance of those that knew how to help and teach her.

It had only been a few days in to her studied and the girl was having a hard time acclimating to her new home, there was just so much change happening in every aspect of her life and despite her physical appearance, her emotional maturity was still that of a child’s (for now). Zoe had assumed the task of helping the girl get settled and allowed her as many FaceTime calls home as necessary, but was desperate to get her involved in things at the school in order to feel like she had a place here. If her homesickness continued, would her parents come take her home or would she miss reaching her potential at the Academy? After watching the girl sulk, Zoe had an idea - what better to break the melancholy and provide a distraction than a party? It had been awhile since the girls of Robichaux’s had a special event and even longer since they had done anything with the boy’s school across the street - she decided a joint party to welcome the Summer Solstice that weekend would be the perfect occasion for a party.

—-

The Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, the school for warlocks, was housed in an antebellum home directly across the street from Miss Robichaux’s. When Zoe called upon a fellow instructor there, Behold Chablis, to propose a joint school party he was only too happy to accept. Coincidentally, they had also recently welcomed a new student who was having a hard time connecting to his new environment. Behold invited her over the next day to plan the event, sitting out of the front porch of the home in large wooden rocking chairs in the warm and humid weather.

“He’s a smart boy, very kind.” Behold explained as he sipped a glass of sweet iced tea. “He came to us from LA, the police found him alone with the corpse of his grandmother.” Zoe’s eyebrows raised from beneath her thick-rimmed sunglasses, a shocked noise from her mouth. Behold nodded. “I know. Poor thing was there for at least a whole weekend with her; had no other family. His school called in a wellness check when he didn’t show up Monday morning and the grandmother didn’t answer the phone. They took him to the police station and a social worker, luckily one of our own, broke the bad news that she was gone.” He took another sip of tea as Zoe did the same. “Started sobbing so hard that the electricity went out across the entire neighborhood. They were lucky they could get him to calm down before he caused a blackout across the entire city.”

“How terrible!” Zoe gently rocked in her own chair, shaking her head.

“Mhm, mhm. He’s about 17, very sensitive still and I think it’d do him some good to find a friend he could relate to.”

“I’m so glad I reached out to you, Behold.” Zoe smiled and reached a hand out to pat her counterpart on the shoulder.

——

Humidity hung thick in the air as was typical of a Louisiana summer night, but since the sun had set the heat had broken enough for the students and staff of Robichaux and Hawthorne to enjoy the start of their Summer Solstice party. The large rear lawn of Hawthorne served as the venue and was lushly decorated with fire-lit torches around the perimeter, clusters of large blankets and cushions smattered around for seating along with garlands of flowers and outdoor lighting draped on poles across the lawn. A large table of food and drinks on the rear porch and banquet seating for the staff oversaw the festivities. It was casual, but provided fun for the students with pop music playing out of thin air, a large in ground pool for swimming and lots of other activities available.

Behold and Zoe’s plans to introduce their new students to one another took place organically before they even had to intervene. “Look.” Behold nudged Zoe’s elbow with his own as he walked up to her on the porch.

Down on the lawn, Behold’s student was sitting on a cushion with his long legs crossed a bit awkwardly to cradle the overflowing plate of snacks in his lap. The boy had a thick shaggy mop golden blonde ringlets on his head and a hint of dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep and frequent crying he did in the middle of the night. He hunched over much as he usually did, an attempt to curl in on himself for protection and hide from the hurt he felt from the world around him. He had spoken to a few of his classmates when getting food, but purposely sought out a place to sit where no one else was. Wearing black trouser shorts that exposed long muscular legs with a crisp black v-neck t-shirt tucked in, his equally muscular arms were on display. He may have been awkward in his body, but it was something to behold with several of his peers jealous of the way the girls had been looking at him since they arrived at the party. He was barefoot and wiggling his toes carelessly along with the rhythm of the music overhead, lost in his own little world, when a bright cheerful voice interrupted.

“May I join you?” His pale blue eyes looked up to meet an identical pair, sparkling with a slight violet hue. He opened his mouth to speak, but made no noise as he took in the girl standing before him.

She was wearing a simple white cotton sundress, thin strings tied into bows served as the straps on her golden-skinned shoulders where a white eyelet trim on the skirt barely touched her knees. The shape of her body was unlike anything he had seen, it makes him think of Marilyn Monroe from those movies his grandma liked to watch. What was the word she used to describe her? Voluptuous! Yes, this vision in front of him was as voluptuous as Marilyn Monroe. A wide smile took over her entire face, lighting it up as she awaited his answer. She wore no makeup, the summer sun had kissed her skin to give her face a golden hue, the heat of the air causing a natural pink flush of her cheeks and nose, a bit of simple gloss coated her lips - borrowed from one of her classmates.

He nodded his head, sputtering out a “Y-y-yeah…” Sitting down gracefully on the cushion next to him, she kept her knees pressed together, legs swung to her side to remain modest. Settling in, her toes brushed against his, making her giggle and him startle at the way that simple contact seemed to shoot an electric bolt from his toes up his entire body. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, his scalp tingling as a result of her touch. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, glancing down at the plate in her lap, a few tendrils of her own golden hair fell from the high ponytail on her head, little tight ringlets caused by the humidity.

“Hi, I’m Gabriella.” She finally looks over at him again, the warmth of her smile practically radiating at him. He can’t help the slow smile that pulls at his lips as he meets her eyes.

“Gabriella.” The smile grows wider upon the name dipping slowly from his mouth, as if to savor each syllable as he speaks it. “I’m Michael.”


	3. Watermelon Sugar High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Gabriella enjoy the Summer Solstice party. And Michael can’t help himself as his body reacts to new feelings.

Zoe and Behold congratulated themselves, considering their new students meeting and smiling the way were as a success. They clinked their margarita glasses together in celebration and went off to enjoy the evening with their colleagues.

Michael had been lost in the wake of his Grandmother’s passing; she had been the only constant in his life but the incident with killing that priest had been the last straw for her. That day in his bedroom, the way she grabbed his throat and yelled at him with pure hate in her eyes as she glared at him, it had broken something deep inside. Shame and anger took him over when he had been told she was dead – he knew she had taken her life in order to escape him. And he knew then that the darkness inside of him was something he could never let happen again, the secret of his past behavior never to be told. His arrival at Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men had been his salvation and only strengthened his resolve to keep the darkness repressed. At Hawthorne he now had male figures in his life looking out for his best interests and was surrounded by other young men like him. Michael was quiet, observant and careful around the other students as he so badly wanted to be accepted by them and not do anything to ruin his place at the School. Behold had taken it upon himself to look after Michael and was worried for him, the sullenness that clouded the boy never seemed to break.

This sullenness is what had pulled Gabriella to Michael like a magnet, sensing that the warlock sitting all alone needed company. She was having her own struggles adapting to her new life at Robichaux and knew that if she had been seated alone, she would’ve appreciated a kind companion. A silence fell between them after they had made introductions, Gabriella suddenly feeling shy as she was experiencing a new feeling, attraction.

“I guess I’m not the only one who decided to go without shoes.” She broke the silence, acknowledging that their bare feet had brushed against each other.

“It’s too hot for shoes.” Michael kept his head bent, looking down at his lap. “But I don’t like ‘em even when it’s not hot outside. Is that weird?” He picked up a large slice of watermelon from his plate of food, taking a big bite as he raised his head slowly to look at Gabriella.

“Nope, unless I’m weird.” She laughed. “Which could be true, I mean you’re a warlock and I’m a witch. But I just like the way the grass feels between my toes.” She shifted her body to extend her legs straight out in front of her, keeping her knees pressed together as she combed her toes through the lush green grass of the lawn. Michael did the same, laughing as the grass tickled.

“At home my favorite thing to do is barefoot outside with my take my dog. I throw tennis balls for her and while she chases them, I try to hide but she always sniffs me out from behind the trees and bushes.” Gabriella exposes a bit of her homesickness, unable to help herself from the happy memories of playing with her pet. But she doesn’t want to be melancholy around her new friend and stops herself from continuing by reaching over to Michael’s plate to steal a piece of watermelon.

“Hey!” He scolds her playfully, sticking his tongue out. She takes a bite and grins as she eats, not at all minding as he snatches a cupcake from her plate. “Payback!” He celebrates, peeling the paper off the chocolate treat, shoving the entire thing into his mouth to eat it at once. They enjoy their snacks and the conversation lulled into another silence for awhile.

“I like your nail polish.” Michael finally speaks, unable to resist himself as he rubs his toes over hers, her nails painted in cherry red glitter. “Red’s my favorite color. What’s yours?”

“Ooh, now that’s tough.” Gabriella wiggles her toes, brushing her foot against his again. “I really don’t have a favorite, I like all the colors. So, uh, let’s just say my favorite color is rainbow. Yeah, rainbow!” She giggles.

“Rainbow is not a color! And that’s like cheating because it’s all the colors.” He laughs and their conversation continues like that, playfully getting to know each other and unaware of the small ways they find to touch each other. There is obviously something between them, but while Michael couldn’t describe what it was he knew he was responding to her in a way he hadn’t to anyone before. Gabriella’s naïveté left her blind to how she was responding to Michael, not thinking anything past the fact that she was happy to have a new friend.

As the party continued, eventually other students joined Michael and Gabriella and a raucous game of charades broke out. The small group of students roaring with laughter at the lighthearted imitation Gabriella did of Cordelia during the game. During the game, Michael walked away to get a glass of lemonade for her and Gabriella, returned to find another warlock had taken his seat next to her. The way the other warlock was looking at Gabriella, like he was hungry for her, made something brew inside him. It was when the other took one of Gabriella’s hands in his to read her palm that Michael snapped. The jealous anger tempted his darkness, a flash in Michael’s eyes showed him charging the other warlock and choking him to death right there in front of everyone. But thankfully he was able to push that urge down, instead he clutched the glasses in his hands to hard they shattered, glass flying though the air along with the sweet sticky liquid.

“Michael?” Gabriella was the first one to notice, turning her head so quick her golden ponytail whipped her bare shoulder.

“I uh…” In a flash his anger was replaced by embarrassment and shame, crouching down to scoop up the glass shards in his hand. “I didn’t realize my strength… my powers…” He was stammering, not even noticing as one of the pieces of glass sliced into the palm of his hand.

“You’re bleeding, let me help you.” Gabriella came over, a slow wave of her hands and a hushed incantation cleaned up the broken glass, a simple cleaning spell she had learned her first day at the Academy. And because she was still young in her power and not able to heal a wound, she waved Michael to follow her inside Hawthorne to address his wound.

“I feel so stupid.” He signed, sitting on the vanity of the nearest bathroom inside the School. He swung his legs and clutched his injured hand at his chest as it throbbed.

“Don’t feel stupid. We all have accidents.” Gabriella searched a cupboard to find first aid supplies, gathering what she needed on the vanity next to where Michael sat. She turned on the tap and washed the cut with soap and water before grabbing a bottle of peroxide. “This is probably going to sting, so I’m sorry in advance. Okay?” He nodded in agreement.

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, her top teeth bared as she bit at it nervousness as she soaked a large square of cotton in the peroxide, watching the liquid foam on the cut as she used it to clean it out. Michael watched how gentle she was with him, feeling his temperature rise and something stir inside him, but once the peroxide hit he was hissing and squirming from the stinging pain she was causing him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, a funny kind of stinging stirring inside of him as she continued tending to his hand. He knew this feeling, it was the one that had been happening a lot lately. It had happened last night even; he woke up and found himself on his stomach, rubbing against a pillow under his crotch. He felt something wet and sticky in his underwear to find he had made a mess of himself. Something about this made him feel wrong, wondering if it had something to do with his darkness, a subconscious expression of what he fought against while awake.

“O-o-okay, that’s g-good!” He suddenly pushed Gabriella away with his uninjured hand, knowing this had to stop as that hot twitching feeling in his crotch was starting up. “I uh, I need a minute.” He pushed her out of the room, hastily closing and locking the bathroom door behind her.

Gabriella thought perhaps Michael needed to actually use the restroom, so she didn’t think much of his behavior. Left alone and inside of Hawthorne for the first time, she wanted to the kitchen where more food was spread out on a granite topped island. She picked up a large triangular piece of watermelon from a platter, wandering back down the main corridor towards the bathroom. She lazily enjoyed her snack while admiring the photographs and artwork adorning the walls. Watermelon, she had learned that evening, was her and Michael’s favorite summer snack.

Inside the bathroom, Michael splashed cold water on his face, taking a few minutes of breathing deeply to get his bearings again. He pushed back the slightly damp hair at his face and looking at his reflection in the mirror. He blew out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Don’t fuck this up, Michael. Don’t ruin another good thing, she’s nice and I don’t have anywhere to go if I cause problems here. Just keep it together.” Another heavy breath fell from his lips, finally collecting himself to go find his friend.

He found Gabriella swaying slightly to a silent tune, clutching a piece of melon as she stood in front of a photo of the first class of warlocks to graduate from Hawthorne. She leaned in to read the caption underneath the photo, not paying attention as she took a bite that a dribble of melon juice ran past her lips and down her chin to drip a stain onto her chest of her white sundress.He felt that that stirring in himself again as he watched her lick her lips, it was an obscene sight to him.

“G-g-g Gabriella… h-hey…” She startled, not knowing he had been watching her from a few feet away, turning to smile as she wiped her chin with the back of her hand after finishing eating “I’m am, uh, r-really tired, it’s been a long day.” Michael was fumbling to speak. “I’m just going to go head to bed. Call it a night.”

“What? You’re a total party pooper!” She stuck her tongue out at him playfully as she walked towards him. “You’re right, it is lateI.” She glanced at a grandfather clock nearby that showed it was nearly Midnight, even though the party was still going on outside with no indication of dying down soon.

“It was awesome meeting you and hanging out.” Michael boldly took at step closer to Gabriella, wrapping his arms around her in a gentle hug in desperation to have her close just for a moment.

“You, too Michael.” She looped her arms around his neck, having to stand up on her toes as he was taller than her. “Text me tomorrow or something.” Giving a squeeze, Gabriella pulled away, Michael’s embrace falling away as she did. He walked her to the front door, saying goodnight – he stood leaning in the doorway watching as she made her way across the street to Robichaux’s. She opened the door, turning to see Michael looking after her, she blushed deep red and waved at him before she went in and closed the door.

“Gabriella.” He signed her name heavily, feeling in a haze of thoughts and physical conflict as he padded up the grand staircase and down the second floor hallway to his room. Thankfully he was all to himself as his roommate was still at the party. Michael took a deep breath as he got ready for bed, hoping he could smell the faint perfume the girl wore; it was familiar and sweet but he couldn’t place it. He raised his arms to peel his t-shirt off, holding it to his nose to find a slight note of her that quickly disappeared. The room was dark save for the ambient light from behind the blinds and curtains on the windows as he took his shorts off and kicked them across the room to a small pile of dirty laundry, tossing his t-shirt into the same pile. Wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, he pulled back the cool cotton top sheet and lightweight quilt on the bed to climb in. His mind was busy recounting everything about that evening and Gabriella as he stared at the ceiling. Shifting onto his side, Michael closed his eyes to try and find sleep knowing the sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he’d wake up and could text Gabriella.

But his body betrayed him. With his eyes closed, the image of Gabriella licking watermelon juice from her lips replayed in his mind, a phantom feeling of the stinging pain she caused when cleaning his hand prickled over every nerve ending in his body. Michael didn’t realize what he was doing as shifted onto his back, his heels digging into the mattress, knees bending up slightly as his right hand slipped underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Gabriella” He moaned softly, closing his hand around his stiffening erection, exploring the feeling as his dreamy mind continued to wander while envisioning her. Her tan legs, the curve of her hips as she swayed, the bright glee of her laugh, the swell of her breasts pressing against his chest when they hugged. “Mmm, f-fuck!” He groaned as he started jacking himself slowly, the pleasure of it bringing him to realize what he was doing, but he didn’t care if it was wrong because it felt too good, too right. He shifted slightly, rocking his hips up into his hand as he became more frantic, desperate for more. It was dry and rough, but it felt good. Gripping his cock tighter, with his left hand roaming over his stomach and up his chest, Michael imagined touching her, what it would feel like to have her here with him and exploring her warm sun kissed skin. He rubbed the palm of his right hand in a slow circle over a nipple when his orgasm came, panting ragged breaths and squirming in the bed as his cum spurted over his hand making a mess in his underwear and on his stomach. The intense electricity of the orgasm coursing through his body had his head swimming, slightly scared at what he had just experienced because it was so new and euphoric, he wanted more.

—-

Michael couldn’t get enough of his new-found activity; in the shower, in bed after his roommate was asleep, in the morning when his roommate was showering and once in the greenhouse after doing yard work because the smell of grass made him think of her and how she said she liked feeling it between her toes. He had used up his entire bottle of body lotion in just over a week, seeking out other lubricating methods throughout the house. It was only after John Henry, another one of the instructors, noticed the kitchen pantry devoid of olive oil (this wasn’t the first time) that he sat down with Michael not only to gift him a bottle of lube, but to educate him on safe sex, consent and male and female anatomy. Knowing that carnal pleasure was to be expected, the warlocks believed that thorough education on the subject was necessary.

“Michael, be safe and don’t feel embarrassed to ask myself or any of the other instructors if you have any questions. Again, this is normal and healthy to have these feelings.” Michael looked down, unable to help feeling slightly embarrassed. “And this is important – if you find yourself attracted to a fellow witch or warlock, tread lightly. You must not disrespect or physically use another magical being.”


End file.
